CHAPTER XIII.
GLEAMS WHICH FADE.
In the chaos of feelings and passions which defend a barricade there iseverything,--bravery, youth, the point of honor, enthusiasm, the ideal,conviction, the obstinacy of the gambler, and above all intermittinggleams of hope. One of these intermittences, one of these vaguequiverings of hope, suddenly ran along the Chanvrerie barricade at themost unexpected moment.
"Listen," Enjolras, who was ever on the watch, exclaimed. "I fancy thatParis is waking up."
It is certain that on the morning of June 6 the insurrection had for anhour or two a certain reanimation. The obstinacy of the tocsin of St.Merry aroused a few slight desires, and barricades were begun in theRue du Poirier and in the Rue des Gravilliers. In front of the PorteSt. Martin, a young man armed with a gun attacked a squadron of cavalryalone, unprotected, and on the open boulevard he knelt down, raised hisgun, fired and killed the Major, and then turned away, saying, "There'sanother who will do us no more mischief." He was cut down. In the RueSt. Denis a woman fired at the National Guard from behind a Venetianshutter, and the wooden laths could be seen to tremble every moment.A boy of fourteen was arrested in the Rue de la Cossonnerie with hispockets full of cartridges, and several guard-houses were attacked. Atthe entrance of the Rue Bertin Poirée a very sharp and quite unexpectedfusillade greeted a regiment of cuirassiers, at the head of which rodeGeneral Cavaignac de Barague. In the Rue Planche Mibray old crockeryand household utensils were thrown from the roofs down on the troops;this was a bad sign, and when Marshal Soult was informed of the fact,Napoleon's old lieutenant became pensive, for he remembered Suchet'sremark at Saragossa: "We are lost when old women empty their pots dechambre on our heads." These general symptoms manifested at a momentwhen the riots were supposed to be localized, this fever of angerwhich regained the upper hand, these will-o'-the-wisps flying here andthere over the profound masses of combustible matter which are calledthe faubourgs of Paris, and all the accompanying facts, rendered thechiefs anxious, and they hastened to extinguish the beginnings of theconflagration. Until these sparks were quenched, the attacks on thebarricades Maubuée, de la Chanvrerie, and St. Merry were deferred, sothat all might be finished at one blow. Columns of troops were sentthrough the streets in a state of fermentation, clearing the largestreets and searching the smaller ones, on the right and on the left,at one moment slowly and cautiously, at another at quick march. Thetroops broke open the doors of the houses whence firing was heard,and at the same time cavalry manœuvres dispersed the groups onthe boulevards. This repression was not effected without turmoil, andthat tumultuous noise peculiar to collisions between the army and thepeople, and it was this that had attracted Enjolras's attention in theintervals between the cannonading and the platoon fire. Moreover, hehad seen wounded men carried along the end of the street on litters,and said to Courfeyrac, "Those wounded are not our handiwork."
The hope lasted but a short time, and the gleam was quickly eclipsed.In less than half an hour what there was in the air vanished; it waslike a flash of lightning without thunder, and the insurgents feltthat leaden pall, which the indifference of the people casts uponabandoned obstinate men, fall upon them again. The general movement,which seemed to have been obscurely designed, failed, and the attentionof the Minister of War and the strategy of the generals could now beconcentrated on the three or four barricades that remained standing.The sun rose on the horizon, and an insurgent addressed Enjolras,--
"We are hungry here. Are we really going to die like this, withouteating?"
Enjolras, still leaning at his parapet, made a nod of affirmation,without taking his eyes off the end of the street.